Awake and Alive
by Maggie Napier
Summary: Maka finds herself at Stein's door. Again. This is nothing but them indulging in fantasies that will never truly happen. Stein pictures her pale, perfect skin tainted in her own blood. Maka isn't sure when this game of theirs will stop. There is no such thing as love. There is only carnal desire.


**I always say I should update something when I make something new. Blah. Anyways, recently I've gotten into _Soul Eater_, and I've been indulging in Stein/Maka like the perv I am. Seriously, this is a closet ship to most of my friends. So I decided to write about it, because I'm not entirely ashamed of loving this pairing.**

**Warning: There may be OOC-ness ahead, since I'm relatively new to the fandom. I do try my best, though. Also, this is kind of a step away from my usual writing style. Hopefully it's not too choppy.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own _Soul Eater_ or "Awake and Alive" by Skillet.**

"**Awake and Alive"**

Soul never questions _why_ Maka suddenly announces she's going to Stein's house—he just assumes she's being a teacher's pet, as per usual.

Maka can't lie to Soul. She can't lie to her weapon, the person she trusts more than anyone else in this world. So she tells him a half-truth. She tells him she's going to Stein's house, because that is her final destination, and Soul doesn't question it.

Half-truths are better than lies. Soul knows where she is going, but not why.

He doesn't care what her motives are. He just lets her go on her own. So she does, and even leaves a note behind just in case Soul forgets where she'll be. She trusts him that much.

Trusts him enough that she can tell him where she'll be. Enough to where she knows he won't follow her.

She walks out the door and silently makes her way to her destination.

* * *

Stein opens the door soon after Maka knocks on it, and wordlessly he lets her in, making room for her to cross the threshold into his cold, dark manor. Maka nods as she walks inside. Usually this is the time for words of greeting, yet for them, in times like these, they say nothing. At least, not until the door closes.

And even when it does, and they're both sealed inside, Stein only asks, "Would you like some tea, Maka?"

He always offers her tea.

He's never made it once.

"Yes, thank you," Maka replies politely, that sweet smile gracing her face, though she knows very well that Stein won't even think to go into the kitchen. She just sits on a dusty couch, perched on the edge, hands lightly placed in her lap. She watches his languid stride as he makes his way toward her, blinking occasionally.

_Relax_, she tells herself. She's been here many times before, and every time has started out like this.

At times she wonders if her father would think to follow her here. But she knows he's drinking away his problems, a pretty girl on his arm. She's just being paranoid.

Stein takes his usual place in his office chair, leaning over it casually, arms draped over the back of it, head leaning forward. He smiles at her, humming softly. "Would you mind if I smoked in here?" He always asks this, too.

But unlike the tea, Stein makes good on his promise to smoke.

"Not at all," says Maka, shaking her head slightly. She hates the smell of cigarettes. But Stein always smokes around her.

As he lights up, he decides to ask her a different, less mundane question. "Why do you keep coming here?" His eyes convey something slightly more serious.

Maka doesn't answer. In times like these, usually she tries to search her mind for an answer she already knows yet can't recall.

But she doesn't know why she's here. At times she feels like her feet just start moving to his doorstep against her will, when she least wants to see him.

"I see." And just like that, Stein lets it drop after a few moments, focusing more on taking drag after drag of his shrinking cigarette. Maka likes this about him, likes that he can let something go easily.

As he smokes, his eyes scan her posture; her lithe, underdeveloped body. Maka tenses slightly, her hands in her lap clenching into tense fists until his gaze goes back to her eyes, meeting them with want and desire and something else she can't place. He says nothing about it. Neither does she.

She knows what he's thinking when he looks at her like this. She also knows he'll never do it.

He senses that control that her father has over him. He sees that same control in Maka.

Rarely is there conversation between them when they are alone together. Maka cannot think of anything to say, other than responses to Stein's few questions.

She is completely vulnerable in his hands, and he knows this.

Yet he has never fully taken advantage of that.

"You want to see the lab." It's a statement, not a question.

He's not giving her a choice.

Maka nods, her mouth suddenly dry. Yet she doesn't feel as tense. She just nods and blindly follows Stein downstairs like a lifeless doll. It's how it always is. It's how it always will be until she tells him to stop.

She doesn't know if that will ever happen.

As her hands run over a metal examination table, Stein stops in his tracks and lets her observe as he just watches her moves, watches her long, lean legs, how her hands feel so hesitant to touch anything.

The table is cold and real. She sees what has never happened here, what will happen here now.

"This is new," she says softly, and Stein acknowledges her statement with a grunt.

He doesn't need anything new. Least of all an examination table.

But she doesn't question it. She doesn't give her opinion. She just states and says what _is_ rather than what she wants.

"It is." Stein doesn't deny it. Slowly he approaches her, standing before her, closer than he's been so far this entire time.

Maka knows how much shorter she is compared to him. But she doesn't care. She just looks up at him, waiting for him to make the first move. He always does.

Slowly his arms embrace her small frame and lift her so she is sitting on the examination table. Maka says nothing. She doesn't hold to Stein.

Not yet, at least.

The gap between them is soon gone. Usually a conversation plays into how this will start, but lately Maka has less and less to say. As does Stein. They both know how this will end; therefore, all is said and done.

The words between them are nothing but filler, a filler of everything that is uncomfortable and awkward.

There's no need for it, they realize, so they get straight to the point now.

Stein's mouth is chapped and dry, Maka notes. It tastes like cigarettes and blood, and she has never tasted anything better in her life. His tongue is scratchy as it forces permission into Maka's soft mouth and touches her tiny pink muscle with no hesitation, whereas Maka is slightly tense and shows some reluctance, at least at first. It doesn't feel horrible to Maka, though. The strange sensations she feels make this all the more real, and she eventually gives into Stein's hot kiss, never breaking it.

Soon her back is pressed against the cold metal of the examination table, making her shudder slightly at just how _cold_ and unsympathetic it is.

Just like Stein.

A small strand of saliva connects their lips as Maka finally pulls away for air, her pants very soft and almost inaudible. She is losing herself to this, losing herself for the sake of escape, at least for a few moments.

They never speak when they engage in this activity. There is no need to. Maka has never moaned Stein's name at the peak of ecstasy, and never has Stein done so for Maka.

This isn't love, or lust, or even escape, for that matter.

This is carnal desire. They do this for the sake of being primal. She is curious and he is willing. That's all they need.

There are too many layers of clothing separating Maka from Stein.

Slowly, almost lovingly, Stein begins to strip away Maka's many layers of clothing, as if he's peeling away her skin and muscle to get to the very essence of her soul.

She knows why he participates in this activity.

She chooses not to think it.

When she is stripped down, she makes no effort to cover herself up. She is no timid, virginal soul. Even if she does, he will just imagine things much worse. So she lets him gaze at her pale, unblemished skin as she once again wraps her bare legs around his waist loosely.

To him, she knows, it's so imperfect.

It should be covered in bloody perfection.

Stein never undresses when they do this. Maka pretends not to be disappointed, though she can't help it. She has to imagine what that body looks like underneath the layers of material covering him.

After a moment of observing her, Stein's hands reach up. Precise, calculating fingers run vertically down from her collarbone.

She knows what is going through his mind as he does this.

He wants a scalpel in his hands.

She knows this will never happen, that this is just his fantasy, and she tries to indulge as much as she can stomach.

Lips sloppily move to her neck and downward, kissing that skin and making a trail down her body. With a soft moan, Maka instinctively arches slightly into his mouth and closes her eyes lightly. With each passing moment, this becomes more and more of an out of body experience.

Soon his lips crash to hers again, and Maka responds eagerly, already welcoming that scratchy tongue and intoxicating taste of nicotine and iron.

The table is like ice and Stein is like fire. Maka wants to grasp that fire, wants to burn herself on the feeling of Stein's clothes grazing against her naked body. She clutches to his white lab coat for dear life, whimpering into the kiss as it becomes deeper.

Her hips buck up with need, and before long, she feels something hard and confined pressing against her bare thigh.

Again they pull away for air. Maka meets Stein's eyes. While he looks like he's concentrating, she can tell she's slipping further and further into desire.

Maka closes her eyes again as she hears the soft sound of a zipper being undone.

She doesn't want to look at it.

She leaves it up to her imagination to fill in the blanks.

She strangely feels as if she'll be disappointed if she looks, though she's sure any other woman he's been with will assure her otherwise.

But it's more of the _idea_ of it that keeps her satisfied. She feels like that will all be ruined with just one glance.

She opens her eyes to see that Stein has taken off his glasses. She can see him more clearly now.

For the first time since they were still participating in mundane conversation, he speaks. "There's nothing to be afraid of." He snickers slightly.

He's teasing her.

Maka says nothing, only lets a light pink blush dust her cheeks.

He chuckles again. "Honestly, there's nothing wrong with it, Maka."

Her blush deepens. He knows just what she's thinking.

He'll never understand. At least, not on her level.

He is not turned on by Maka's soft whimpers and the sight of her perfect skin flushed with pink.

No, he's aroused by the thought of cutting into her and painting her body with every single ounce of blood she has. He's stimulated by the idea of mutilating her and making her more perfect than she already is.

Maka is aroused by the idea of an organ she refuses to see brushing against her exposed skin.

His hands shift to undo her pigtails, letting her hair flow loose. It makes her look older, she remembers him saying.

So he doesn't feel as remorseful for just how _wrong_ this is.

With a final kiss, Stein positions himself, and Maka tries her best not to grind against it. There's only so much she can take until she becomes compete putty in his more than capable hands.

He presses in, and Maka can't feel anything else.

A loud moan rips through her throat, and her eyes close again, focusing on the purest form of pain and pleasure she knows she'll ever feel.

Ripping her apart like this is the closest Stein will ever get to dissecting her.

So he makes the most of it.

It takes a few moments, as usual, but the trigger for Stein to move is when Maka pulls him down for another searing kiss, her bare body arching into him as she gives out another strained moan.

But she likes the pain. It makes her feel alive.

His thrusts start out slow, and other than the occasional grunt he makes no sound.

But he's enjoying this. Through half-lidded eyes, Maka can see that he's barely hanging onto control by a thread. The only thing that keeps him grounded is his constant gaze on her.

And it's not on her body. That would just give him too many ideas.

His eyes never leave hers, despite how often she closes them to moan out in pleasure. Like how she never gazes at his body, Stein never gazes at hers. At least, not for too long.

That eye contact is more intimate than the act in which they're currently participating.

Stein eventually moves faster when he notes that Maka isn't as tense or tight. Maka can feel her moans ripping through her throat loudly, and this only makes her clutch to Stein tighter. She's so close, so ready to spill over the edge.

So is he.

She never tells Stein that she secretly loves how he taints her, inside and out. It's embarrassing to her, much like how she can't look at it.

She's sure Stein knows, anyway.

With a few more thrusts, orgasm shudders through their bodies, practically at the same time. Their final moans and pants meld together within a passionate kiss, Maka's small hands curled around the lapel of Stein's lab coat. Her legs are tightly crossed now, not loosely.

In the afterglow he doesn't leave. He doesn't leave until she tells him to, in her own special way.

So for these few moments they are as close as lovers, entangled in a mass of sweaty, spent limbs. For these few moments Maka imagines actually being Stein's.

She can only see it for a moment.

It's an impossible scenario to imagine. They are not meant to be, and they both know it.

She quakes slightly, eyes closing one more time before opening slowly. "I should get home soon." It's the first time Maka has spoken since before this act began.

With an almost inaudible sigh, Stein withdraws from Maka's body, almost remorsefully, then tucks himself away. A wipe of his forehead, and he's straightened up.

He stands without another word or sound. He watches as Maka sits up slowly, then slowly begins to walk around and gather her clothes, putting on each layer, as much as she knows Stein prefers her bare. But it isn't as if she's willing to let him cut into her anytime soon.

It's nice to see that someone can notice beauty in her.

He's back to being draped over a rolling chair again, a lit cigarette dangling from his mouth as she straightens out the last wrinkle in her shirt.

"Do you need help?" he offers, a playful glint behind his glasses.

She nods and he turns. Wordlessly Maka sits in his lap, her back fitting perfectly into the mold of his chest. He begins to pull her hair back into her signature pigtails. It isn't something he particularly wants to do, but he does it anyway, making sure each one is even and nicely put together.

Like they were never together. Like before she got here.

Once he is done, she gets up, and he nods once, leading her back up to the main room.

All is said and done. There is nothing left for either of them to do.

Maka bows politely to her teacher. She says nothing about what has happened. Or anything, in that matter, that implies what they did.

"Soul must be wondering where you are. It's getting dark. Would you like me to give you a ride?" Stein's offer seems too good to refuse.

But Maka does anyway. "Thank you, but I'm fine, Professor." It feels strange to call him by such an official title after what they've just done.

"Suit yourself." Stein just lets the matter go and shrugs, opening the door for her again so she can leave. It's just what always happens.

She steps out, facing him on his doorstep.

This is how it will be until this game of theirs stops.

"Thank you," Maka says again, feeling no need to really say it as she walks away slowly, occasionally looking back.

Stein leans on the doorframe casually, a lopsided smile gracing his face. He's lit another cigarette, Maka notes.

He leaves her with the same parting words.

"I'll see you at school."

She nods in acknowledgement and walks back toward home, letting her mind wander to pass the time.

She knows that soon she'll be at Stein's doorstep again. And he will let her in, no questions asked, no matter what. They will talk briefly, then indulge in that fantasy that leaves them both immensely satisfied and extremely hollow at the same time.

She doesn't know for how long this will continue.

All she knows is that on that day, he'll actually make her tea.

**Fin**

**Thoughts? Reviews? Was it horribly horrible? I'd love to know, so I can better my characterization for this pairing and write them again. Because really, this was a lot of fun to write!**


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